


Desire is blue; Desire's a bastard

by VareTrash



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Buglin-character, Cranky Blueberry, M/M, Pre-Kragdu, Things don't go smoothly, assholes, introductions, turbulence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-06-06 16:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15198671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VareTrash/pseuds/VareTrash
Summary: An introduction to Kraglin and Yondu meeting and the events that unfurled. Kraglin (unknown to Yondu initially) works for a rival and seeks to capture, or kill him, to earn standing within the crew.





	1. It started on Taeghelm

It was very much the same dreary atmosphere as usual on Taeghelm, dark skies filled with industrial smoke pouring from the factories, cities with streets spewing drunks and whores, and rain which left a bitter tang, reminiscent of vomit after a spicy meal. It was a decadent planet to most, populated largely by traders, slaves and thieves. Those who visited either had business or were up to no good. 

On this occasion Yondu was part of the latter, stopping for respite before returning to his crew off planet. Sprawled out between two roof stacks he watched the dense, smoky clouds rolling overhead. The rains had stopped for a time and he'd been seeking some seclusion with his thoughts. Above the rabble he could think. 

As much as he used to enjoy his jaunts and solo heists, of late he'd been beginning to tire. Jobs were becoming the same old mundane tasks and despite his hoard of ever growing treasures he was beginning to find himself bored with the whole thing. Nothing seemed to excite him like it used to and it was frustrating to no end.

He pulled his latest trinket from his pocket and wove it through his fingertips, a fine platinum chain suspending a crystal containing a cascade of glittering specks. There were runes carved upon it in some, likely an ancient language, but it didn't matter to him. His only interest was who he'd anger by stealing it.

Leatho Fraymaw, or so he was known amongst pirates. A hulking great beast of a captain. Not the most intelligent or even a very good pirate, but he was ferocious, commanding a crew of merciless cutthroats few would dare to cross. For a while Yondu and Leatho had been butting heads now, playing the game of one upping the other, and whilst Yondu generally got the majority win it was time to put Leatho in his place.

This latest treasure was one Leatho'd bargained to acquire from a shifty trader on the East side, he was due to collect come morn, so naturally he'd gotten in early the previous day, even kind enough to leave a calling card in case the brute wasn't clever enough to figure it out for himself. 

The steal had been so terribly easy, they may as well have just left it gift wrapped for him. A few rounds bought in a nearby bar and tongues started wagging. Yondu lapped up the intel and within the hour he had his prize, leaving a guard strung up in the warehouse, a shred of his own jacket pinned to his chest with a blade. It was practically spelled out for them.

He continued to run his fingers through the chain absently, musing to himself. The odd ship flew over and he half hoped for an ambush, Leatho was bound to have heard the news by now and waiting was getting tiresome. He sighed and sat upright as another shower began to fall, spitting away the putrid drops that trickled to his lips, moving to shelter by a vent. 

The skies eventually darkened further and the ambient glow of the streets intensified, holding out as long as his patience would allow he then resigned himself to disappointment, seemed there was no entertainment brewing. Pocketing the relic he rose and jumped down to a nearby ledge, walking with flair as he traversed the narrow sill. The evening crowd was heaving below and he feigned squashing them with a foot on occasion as he leapt between the rooftops. 

Distant music wafted up through the buildings as he paused, contemplating his next destination, tapping out a few moves to lighten his spirits before making a descent. The climb down was the best part of scaling buildings and the showman in him couldn't help but throw in some small display of athletics. 

The streets themselves weren't particularly repulsive, the class of the populous however left a lot to be desired. The air at this level was noxious with the stench of sweat, vomit and whatever fluids or matter spewed out of the buildings.The planet itself was a mix of all sorts, no one knew who the natives were and frankly nobody cared.

He emerged from an alleyway currently occupied by an enthusiastic Astran mounting a rather vocal Courga woman, bent over a bin. He'd cringed a little at the sight of him scrambling to get a better angle as she threw her leg in the air, but the idea wasn't terrible. It'd been a while since he last entertained and, hell, he had needs to satiate too, and a drunken coma can only suppress so much.

Changing course he made for the only brothel he'd care to spend at; A fancy, high end establishment where you'd get exactly what you paid for (and no extra surprises). His loin welcomed the idea, making itself known as he walked, his brain on the other hand wasn't wholly convinced, but the only other plan was getting drunk, and at least this way he had the option to do both.

He traipsed along putting out his usual air of swagger, a number of heads turned, most shuffling away, some even darting for cover. His reputation preceded him and here he was notorious. He smirked at the responses, occasionally stopping to check his weapons, purely to watch the crowd around him disperse. It was petty, but spite was second nature. 

Before long he rounded on 'Ketalliyah's', it was a warm, welcoming building compared to it's surroundings, sticking out like a ray of sunshine in the gloom, largely due to the fact that there was an actual sun shaped glowing sign above the doorway now, flanked by flowering tropical plants running up frames along the walls. An eyebrow raised as he shuddered, "woman's gone nuts," he commented.


	2. Making a liaison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yondu enters Ketalliyah's brothel and arranges some 'company'.  
> Foreplay and mild aggression incoming with top/dom Yondu.
> 
> Note: For all strictly Kragdu fans, Kraglin won't make an appearance until chapter 4 (there won't really be much storyline missed by skipping 2 and 3)

He continued inside. The entrance opened up into a large decorative lounge, flanked by two side rooms joined by carved archways. A great, elaborate stairway stood in the centre of the room, leading to the upper levels. The ambience was soothing, furniture ornate and, if even possible, there was even more velvets draped than the last time he'd visited. A number of clients were dotted between tables and loungers, small groups retelling of explicit encounters and sharing notes, whilst others engaged in hearty conversation with servers.

The place oozed wealth, class and sophistication, hardly the place to expect a pirate of his routine, but he enjoyed the finer things when it came to indulging himself, and this establishment had all manner of secrets hiding behind doors. Ketalliyah herself had been famed for her indulgences before settling down and building the business, and she'd taught a whole host of her eccentric pleasures to her workers.

He advanced towards the currently empty bar and pulled up a stool, kicking his feet out to rest on another, rubbing some dirt off of his heels and slumped over the worktop, scrunching his face up at having to wait.

"Ma'll charge you for the cleaning for that!" Came a voice as he spun a coaster.

"For what?" He snapped without looking up.

"You know exactly what" the reply came, snatching the coaster from his hands.

Yondu looked up to see Tiedel giving him a cocky smirk. He was a hybrid lad, retaining his mother's iridescent eyes, delicate face with piercings and sleek blonde hair, spiked up to one side and dyed green at the tips, but also his father's taut, muscular frame. He was presented in a purple robe hemmed in silver, hands adorned in rings and bracelets. 

Yondu couldn't help but make obvious eyes in his direction, " Where is your ma?" He questioned, without breaking the look.

"Away with pa, all that stuff about enjoying their golden years. I'm just glad of the peace and quiet, she's been broadening the appeal of the place of late," he mocked through air quotations. "Anyway, what's up with you? Normally you're storming in, practically bouncing."

Yondu grumbled and snatched the coaster back, "you gonna get me a drink or what?"

Tiedel curtsied low and rolled a hand as he held his hip in an extravagant display, "of course, o cranky one."

The coaster promptly flew back at his head.

"Exceptionally cranky!" He continued as he dodged. "Usual? "

"Stronger." Yondu ordered.

He obeyed and turned to the back wall, selecting a large bottle of spirit. He poured a shot and returned, sliding it across. "How's this? One of my favourites."

Yondu threw it back without care to taste. "It'll do."

Tiedel slumped to his elbows opposite, mimicking Yondu's moody expression. "What's your fancy today then? Or have you just come to grace me with your radiating charm and sunny smile?"

The jest deadpanned as Yondu glowered, moving to his thigh and unsheathing a gun, placing it silently on the bar. Tiedel frowned as he looked between them, "that bad huh? Well, we've got plenty of choice, you know the tiers. I can take you through and call them in." He gestured to the nearest side room.

"You working?" Yondu returned.

Tiedel, dropped to rest on his elbows again, head in hands and pouted, "Alas, no. I'm holding the fort. Anyway, after the last time I thought you'd want someone stronger." An eyebrow raised as he looked quizzically over his face.

"You told me to carry on," He smirked devilishly for a brief second, before scoffing back in temper, "anyways, I ain't in the mood to play!"

Tiedel nodded, unconvinced by his attitude, "well, let me show you what else is on offer." He poured a double shot and handed it over. Yondu downed it once more and stood to follow, holstering his gun.

The next room was dimmer lit, laden with deep arm chairs and small stages. They moved to the empty far corner and Tiedel motioned for him to take a seat, tracking a hand toyingly over his cheek as he summoned one of the girls, whispering orders in her ear before she promptly left.

Yondu slouched into a chair, resting his temple on an index finger and opened his legs, sighing, almost as if he was under protest.

Tiedel quickly scooched on to the arm and leaned back, draping his own arm behind Yondu's neck. "May i?" he asked tentatively, stroking along his nape, "... for refresher's sake."

Yondu cast a sideways sneer and after a little consideration tilted his head for him to get a sniff. Tiedel joyed and leaned in close, drinking in the rich aroma coming off of him, there was traces of foul tasting rain but it was secondary to his natural odour. He dared for a lick, then risking a nibble before a firm hand caught at his hair, stopping him for a moment, before pushing him in for more.

He kissed and licked at Yondu's neck, through the pressure as nails scratched at his scalp, trying to progress to his face. Slowly Yondu allowed him to move, directing his path to his chin and Tiedel's free hand began to explore south, trailing down over his chest before smoothing out to slip under his belt. He nipped like a pup at Yondu's stubble, a subtle request for something more, and whilst Yondu's face remained stern and rigid he opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue for him to suck. 

Tiedel obliged willingly as he slowly descended to rest on the side of his lap, stroking softly over the tip of his engaging cock. "If only I could just..." he sighed through a gentle pant as he gripped his growing girth.

Yondu was far from gentle but he treated Tiedel better than the others. Still, he pulled his head back, exposing his neck and watched as his cheeks flushed. "You've still never kissed me, " Tiedel uttered.

"I never kiss anyone," he growled through teeth, before pulling him back to bite at a piercing. Tiedel groaned as he caught flesh and exhaled forcefully in his ear through his nose, squeezing his erection harder he leaned back, encouraging Yondu to tighten his hold. Yondu took the bait and sunk a canine deep... Just as the girl returned with an entourage.

"Tiedel!" She exclaimed.

"Oh shut up, Reyna!" He shouted back, still caught in his grip. 

Yondu audibly growled, reluctantly letting him go, but ensured to bite harder before the release. He then sucked his tongue over his teeth as Tiedel pulled his hand back after a final stroke and stood to straighten himself, adjusting his robe to cover his own arousal.

He then beckoned the hustlers over, ignoring the trickle of blood sliding down his neck, but Yondu watched it, more intently that he paid attention to the line up.

"This is my short-list of who should meet your preferences," he elegantly gestured to the five, regaining composure. "I highly recommend Tomas or Erdynn." 

Yondu quickly glanced them over as they were pointed out, purple skinned - well built, pale - well built. That was all the details he cared to aknowledge in his current mood, rising from the seat, "fine," he rushed.

"To who?" 

" Both! " he snapped angrily.

"The plateau?" Tiedel called as Yondu already began to march off.

"It'd better be! To hell with the tiers!" A bark came back.

With that he was gone, shot up the stairs in a blur.

Tiedel paused anxiously for a moment, before nodding for the lads to follow.


	3. Troubled for two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yondu handles his 'companions' whilst fighting some unexpected flashbacks.
> 
> Warning for m/m action and aggression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter altered quite a bit from what the original was intended but it does help set the stage for chapter 4 onwards and future works.
> 
> *proceeds to yeet self in to black hole*

Yondu strode in to the plateau, a grim expression fixed upon his face. A liberating shiver ran down his neck as the night's breeze hit him, running through every muscle in his body. He flexed and stretched as he made his way to the vast balcony. It was his favourite feature of this particular room. Though there was a multitude of apparatus and pleasure (or pain, depending on tolerance) devices lining the walls, the platform to the outside instinctively called to him.

It was completely caged in, to prevent 'accidents' of course, but he could still take in the sights and sounds beyond. He would usually carry out his acts here, so as to publicise (however it may potentially come across through the commotion) whoever and however he chose to fuck. No one could or would dare to argue here on this forsaken planet of oppressed, prostitutes and outlaws. Here he needed no validation for his choices and actions.

As he approached the chainlink he listened intently to the peoples below, a frustration was brewing in his gut and he was unsure of the cause. Not getting Tiedel was insignificant, the lad was pleasing and malleable to satisfy an itch, but underneath it all he was fickle and a tramp, spreading for anyone with enough units or that tickled his fancy enough to satiate his need to be dominated. That wasn't what was troubling him. Something far more complex was bubbling under his skin.

He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes to try and ease his strife, weaving his fingers through the sturdy mesh. It felt cold and too familiar in his mind, his thoughts began to trail off somewhere else, somewhere he'd long banished from his memory. The sounds rising up through the air warped to a mob of chirps and whistles as they entered his head and a fierce phantom pain ran across his stomach. He mentally traced it's path directly through his huge abdominal scar, as if the flesh was cut deep once more. 

Stooping to accommodate it, he winced, clutching the links tightly as the air caught in his lungs. He then gasped, as if struck by an assailant, knees buckling as he hung there, shivering through furious convulsions. Teeth ground over one another as he clenched, feigning being struck across the shoulders and his head began to spin. "Shit, " came a choked cry. 

A knock came upon the door. Startling for a moment he snapped open his eyes, a dizzying haze slowly returning to vision. He let out a stifled cough as he rectified himself, ripping out the phantom ache with a broad thrust and pushing off of the link with force. He fumed under his breath, panting in a way that angered him more with each exhale. He needed a drink, and quick.

Racing across to the mini bar he frantically searched for the largest and strongest bottle he could find, swiping it across the scanner above, before opening it and chugging as much as his recouping lungs would allow. It stung as some backed up into his nose with his next breath but he shrugged it off, pausing just long enough to take a deep breath before returning for another long swig.

The knock came again, louder but hesitant, and this time he answered. Moving to a cushioned bench further in, he perched menacingly on the arm, one knee squatted with his foot on the seat. "In!" he hollered, wiping his free hand over his face to restore a cynical brooding look.

Tomas and Erdynn entered in single file, approaching with the typical sway Ketalliyah taught. He raised a hand to halt them and they obeyed, standing shoulder to shoulder instead. He then motioned for them to drop their robes, they did so without duress.

Taking the time to finally look them over he surveyed his toys. Fair does, Tiedel had recommended well, but his face didn't show any sign of approval. They were both firm and tall, broad shouldered with hair long enough to be pulled about. He didn't care for the size of the tackle they carried between their legs though, they were only there to cater to his own satisfaction, and as long as they had fuckable mouthes and a pert ass he could make do.

He took a gulp of drink, grasping at the warm feeling beginning to wash over him and stretched his jaw, rolling his eyes in disdain. Rising with bottle still in hand, he walked slowly across to inspect them, scratching nails over their oiled chests and along the shapes of their faces. They stood steady, neither wincing as he grabbed at their cheeks, squeezing until their lips and jaw parted. He glared at each as he tugged at their hair in turn, testing their resolve.

"We could..." The pale one started. Yondu quickly lifted a finger to silence him, he hadn't paid attention to who was who and he wasn't bothered to find out. Instead he lifted the bottle to his lips and contemplated the next move. 

" You! " he started, pointing to the other. "Bend him over. No touchy feely shit. "

Tomas did as instructed, fondling himself as he pushed Erdynn to his hands and knees. Yondu meanwhile grabbed another bottle from the mini bar and drained the last of his current one. He cast a glance at the nearest wall, debating bringing instruments to the mix, but his skin prickled as his eyes fell on a particular whip and recoiled in silent rage. 

Withdrawing back towards the bench he strained, 'this idea is feeling like a fucking disaster' he thought to himself as he buried his face in his palm. Usually he was clear and precise in his mind but he quickly found himself swimming amongst horrors he thought he'd long put to sleep. He rubbed furiously over his face, growling before looking over at the two.

They cautiously looked at him whilst stroking themsleves, obviously concerned and unsure of what they should do. He bared his teeth as his hand moved to open the fresh bottle and belted, "well stop gawping like little fucktards and get shagging! " He gestured violently, stepping closer. 

They quickly scrambled to do so, Erdynn parting his legs wide and arching low for Tomas to get easy access and was soon filled as Tomas' hands clutched at his hips. Yondu stood and watched silently, listening to the moans coming from them. They sounded hollow and exaggerated but he still stirred downstairs. 

He put the bottle on a neighbouring table and took off his jacket, throwing it over to the bench, then unsheathed his sidearms, checking them over meticulously until he was pressed tight against his leathers, only then did he carefully place them down on the table before scooping up the bottle again.

Returning to the activity, he walked up behind Tomas, raking his fingers over the top of his scalp and grasping a handful of hair. He yanked his head back so he gazed up and instructed, "harder!" Tomas wetted his lips as he buried himself more forcefully, his groans becoming more genuine and a crooked smile developed on Yondu's face. 

Observing, he paced, taking in the sight of them through quickening sups of his drink. He watched; how Erdynn's pale skin flustered, mouth puckered and flush, steadyng himself with each thrust that hit him, how Tomas tensed with each passing push, curling his hands deeper into flesh as he groaned. The alcohol was kicking in, he felt himself relaxing, heat washing over him at last and he seized it as he downed the last drops, dropping the bottle then nudging it aside.

He unbuckled and freed himself, lacing his fingers to clench in Tomas' hair as he kicked off his boots and removed his trousers. He then circled around to face him, straddling his legs over Erdynn below, kicking back a heel to knock an elbow out from under him. Erdynn's face hit the floor and Yondu sniggered, angling the other one closer and pinning his waist between his knees so Erdynn was stuck there.

Tomas looked up into Yondu's eyes as he was confronted with the pulsing blue erection before him, his face was a look of conflicted, tipsy malice, teeth flashing with tongue jut between them, and his eyes dark and narrowed in the light. He swallowed hard and speculated, licking his lips, then opened his mouth in silent acceptance. 

Yondu pushed himself deep inside as Tomas manoeuvred to gratify him. He was long and girthy, tapering up towards the tip and pressing hard at the back of his throat, it was uncomfortable but he somehow managed, trying to bob in long steady strokes against Yondu's hand. "Fuck and suck," Yondu cooed through a sneer, strengthening his control of Tomas' head, " just fuck and suck. "

Dutifully he did, adjusting his rhythm to the hand jerking his ruffled mop of hair whilst continuing to slam against Erdynn. Yondu revelled as tongue and lips contoured around his cock, listening to flesh pounding flesh, his eyes closed as he chewed delicately at his own bottom lip. 

His mind raced with images of previous conquests, those he'd screwed in a multitude of ways, always hard, demanding and often downright brutal. It wasn't troubling though, quite the opposite, they'd all consented to the challenge of him and he'd delighted in sending them on their way, rammed senseless and nursing their bruised sexual prowess.

He felt waves of intensity growing as he continued to rock deep in Tomas' mouth, faces flashing in his head of various races, all yielding... Until one. He saw bright red eyes staring down at him, at first they were warm and soft, but violently changed to piercing and hateful. He gasped and flinched, wrenching Tomas off of him. 

He paused in shock as confused eyes looked up at him, a cold shudder running down his spine as he pictured them laughing to themselves if he quit now, and hells, he'd kill the whole damn brothel before he'd be made a fool of. He was still throbbing with want of release so figured he'd have to fake it until he made it. 

He thrust himself back in without warning, roaring as he smacked his second hand against the back of his head digging his nails in deep. He heard Tomas struggling to maintain a steady breath but he continued, buryng his face into his groin with each repeated hit, fighting for his climax. 

It came slow and each pulsation felt like daggers, a bitter end to what he'd hoped. Pulling out, he promptly stepped over Erdynn, still sprawled unceremoniously on the floor. He shrugged them both aside in dismissal as he passed. "You can go!" He hissed as he grit his teeth, making for his third bottle before barging in to the wash room teetering slightly from consumption.

He set the shower to near blistering hot and stood seething under the fall. Necking the drink as quick as his gullet could handle and proceeded to scrub himself as thoroughly as he could, practically raking at his skin. He despised smelling remnants of others, and this was surely something to be obliterated from memory. 

Slapping his face, he tried getting some sense back but the alcohol was now talking, steam turning to dancing swirls before his bleary eyes. He mumbled under his breath before bursting in to a fit of hysterics, even he wasn't sure if it was laughing or crying. It soon ended though when he brought a fist up to connect firmly with his cheek. He continued to soak in silence after that.


	4. Late to the party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, we finally get a little bit of Kraglin!   
> I promise there'll be more of him, this part ran away with me a bit so...  
> Yondu returns to downstairs after drinking himself into a state, to find he's being waited for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The M-ship touched down on Taeghelm with a lurching thud. Much of the voyage had been spent sat between below in the small cargo hold, out of the way of the others. Things were rough for him right now but he was soon going to prove himself, prove to all the others, that he deserved to wear the Fraymaw patch.
> 
> It'd been just over a cycle since he'd bargained a place aboard Leatho's ship, up to then he was just a common thief roaming the streets, hopping from planet to planet to avoid making his face known and blowing cover. His quick, wit and slight of hands were his specialty, only it didn't serve much use here in the big time. Who needs finesse and deception amongst a rowdy band of pirates that bulldozed and ripped their way through to their goal?
> 
> To serve any purpose he'd been forfeit to navigation and system maintenance, not his first choice but it kept him from a death sentence. One thing he'd quickly learned was that the only way to leave Leatho's service was a body bag and he was keen to save himself from that fate. 
> 
> Increasingly though he'd found his neck on the line, those that didn't earn a patch inevitably found themselves getting the axe and the crew had been getting drastically downsized of late. He feared for his own hide and this most recent upset saw him in range of the outburst, the only option he saw was to go planet side for the hunt. 
> 
> Lost amongst the bruisers he tagged along with he felt small, miniscule even. He dug deep and calmed himself though, they had their strength, but he had his guile. Today he was going to cut his teeth, today Kraglin was out to catch a trophy for his captain!

Yondu lay batting his hand at a shackle over his head. He'd lost track of the time after the 5, or 6, or maybe even 12, more bottles he'd grabbed after his shower. They'd kept melting and shifting as he tried to focus so he quit and instead watched whimsically as the chain rattled above. 

He was floating, quite clearly in a stupor as a bout of hiccups set him in stitches. This was his favoured kind of drunk, where his mind was absent, no worries over what to do, where to rob. No crew going on and on about shares and chores; petty little nothings that bored him to despair. Nope, for now he could enjoy being a stew, relishing in his trance, oblivious to the world... Or so he thought.

A series of short low buzzes began to register as they grew in intensity. He flicked clumsily at his ears on the chance an insect was pestering, but his nails clawed at air. Then, a bored voice came in to his hearing. "Yonduuuuuuuuuu?"

He bolted upright, nearly falling forwards, scanning the room with poor attempt as he squinted. "Whuzat?" He slurred.

"Oh good! Finally! I've been calling you for ages, ended up putting a buzzer on before I lost my voice." the response was fatigued and clearly fed up of such a boring task.

"A buzzer, riiight." Yondu snickered to himself with sloppy air quotations before his face dropped. "You been watching?"

"No, no, voice comms only, for emergencies... You know how ma prides discretion."

Another snicker.

"Anyway, you know your still being charged for the room right? You can drink all you like up there but it's cheaper to do it down here... If you can even walk that is!" A whistle came, "come to think of it i probably should have come up to check you were still alive with what's on the tab."

Yondu waved a hand and brushed it over his face, stretching his eyelids. "It's nothing. I can piss more than I've drunk, " he then quickly patted his crotch to check that he hadn't whilst he was out of it. Somehow his trousers and boots were back on. He scratched his head in confusion before scrambling to pull himself to his feet, swaying dangerously as he staggered for a footing. "... definitely need another drink, I can still feel my legs" he belched.

"Shall I pour one ready down here? Or are you set on funding ma's next pet project?"

Yondu chuckled, "the crone would suck me dry given half the chance... your pa too. We all know he likes a bit of..."

"La, la, la, that's quite enough of my parent's promiscuous-ness-ness, thank you! "

Yondu gleed childishly as a shower of splutters and ewws echoed before the comm cut out and he began to look for his jacket. He crouched low, squinting, treading haphazardly in a gradual circle before he realized what had happened, letting out a growl as he walked in to the shackles he'd be playing with in the beginning and stomped off, veering the opposite direction. This time, success as he stumbled into the bench he'd used earlier. 

He scooped up his jacket and spent far longer than he'd care to admit getting it back on; upside down, inside out, and even when he'd undone his blunder it wasn't over. Clearly his head was not going to fit in a sleeve but it didn't stop a daft attempt. 

Once triumphant his guns were next. A much easier task since he was fairly in tune with his weapons. They sat pristine on the table where he'd left them. Pretty as treasures, he thought to himself as he carefully picked them up, rubbing them to his cheeks like beloved pets before safely sheathing them away with a gentle pat.

Navigating to the door took great effort, he'd been content enough in his solitary stagnation but Tiedel's bodiless voice was right, Ketalliyah did charge extortionate prices for rooms and he wanted minimal contribution of any more fancy ass, new fangled prissy rubbish she was planning on subjecting the place to. Instead he'd settle for griping and continuing his booze marathon downstairs. Hells, if he was lucky he might get a fight to blow off some steam.

After shambling down to the main staircase in a sulk, Yondu's misery only grew when he looked through blurry eyes at the rows upon rows of steps. His jaw jutted and he outright pouted his disapproval. He contemplated doing something whimsical like sliding down a banister or rolling down for shits and giggles, but such displays were reserved for when there'd be no witnesses... left alive anyway. 

The idea was short lived though as Tiedel nervously came fleeting up, shushing as Yondu started to call for his drink. "Shush! Not yet, there's some unsavoury sorts at the bar. Been here a while but I've just clocked on." He shuffled them both around the corner out of sight and Yondu made for a cheeky grope of his backside whilst snaking a leg around him. "woah, you are inebriated!", Tiedel stammered through the fumes. "Are you even listening?"

Yondu raised a curious brow as he scrunched his face, licking his teeth, "you talking about food?... Unsavoury...", He trailed, wrapping himself tighter.

"No, a hunting party! They came in a while back and i was busy so don't know how many there are. Spread about, but a couple just came up and asked if you were here when I was on the transmitter. I tried to get rid of them but they won't budge.You need to get out of here, discreetly!" Tiedel emphasised his last word, hoping for a slim chance that the Centaurian would heed it.

Yondu wrinkled his nose as if the word was a foul smell then quickly pushed Tiedel aside with excitement, "...and why would I do that? That's my business meeting waiting for me at last!" His jaw slackened and a sinister smile cracked through a growl. He straightened up best he could through a number of wobbles and crunched his knuckles before giving his hands a good flex. Knowing too well where this was headed Tiedel made for a hasty retreat downstairs to reach cover, muttering a number of oh hecks under his breath.

Finally, he thought. It took long enough for them to find him, he'd almost given up hope. Guess the rest of Leatho's crew wasn't too smart either. He then strode, none too convincing, soberly to the top of the stairs, pulling his guns out to his hips, snapping his mouth in to an aggressive snarl. He glared over the crowd below, a few were well groomed and certainly clients, but the majority were stale and sweat riddled, a motley, disheveled group, much alike to his own crew given a thought.

But these were certainly Leatho's goons, a number he recognised from previous encounters, but all were distinguishable anyway, by the patch on their garb. A monstrous bird flanked by a trident either side, clutching a limbless torso in it's claws. Supposedly leatho saw himself as the bird given that, in his younger years he wielded tridents and was rumoured to have been able to rip limbs clean from their sockets, but the only opinion Yondu could ever form was that of an obese boar with an enlarged ego, grown slow and bitter over pups nipping at his heels. 

Their first meeting could have been enterprising for the both of them, an ideal quid pro quo in goods each was peddling at the time, but the pig expected Yondu to take huge cuts in his profits, and the tone he'd taken riled him up the wrong way. No one treated Yondu Udonta like a common halfwit without repercussions.

All eyes were resting on him as he realised his snarl had grown loud and guttural. Already he could sense Leatho's crew readying to take action, so he called them up on it. "Those who don't want to die, I'd recommend not moving! Anyone who does... Form an orderly cue, these carpets weren't cheap."

With that, more than half a dozen bodies scattered and scrambled for their weapons, chairs and stools being knocked aside. Yondu's eyes flickered over each movement, rapidly picking out his targets and calculating. Drunk though he was, he was still a deadeye, he could tell hands reaching for armaments a mile away and honed in on the aggressors. Feet spreading to an offensive stance, he tensed and rolled his shoulders, ready for the onslaught.

A brief standoff followed. Though he swayed considerably, his arms raised, trained and rigid, flicking between his quarry as he squinted, mentally mapping coordinates where his guns pointed. His head was still a deep fog, but times like this instinct and reflex kicked in and took over.

The first shot let off and Yondu swooped from it's trajectory, though lacking his usual poise and grace his body dragged itself through the motions. More fire quickly followed and auto pilot kicked in, his hearing picking up the blasts' ignition before his eyes even followed. Feet reacted like lightning, as though his brain wasn't even required.

He danced for a quick spell, to humour their efforts, but the alcohol was sitting heavy and every twist and stretch saw the throes growing in his stomach. The only resolution would be to end it soon... before he ejected his internal brewery.

He felt the pressure mounting, but rolling his eyes he swallowed hard against it and lashed out at last, letting off shots like shooting Orloni in a barrel they peppered the crowd below with little blue explosions as he continued to weave.

Screams rang out as bodies quickly started dropping to the floor and he began to stalk down the stairs in full blown predator mode. It came to conclusion quickly, so quickly in fact he felt the need to vent and expel a number of additional shots into the head of the first shooter, until it bubbled to a bloody pulp. 

"Wooo!" He called over the followed silence. "Seems i really don't need to be on the ball to answer the call." A wry, goading smile appeared as he came to rest against the banister of the first step, resuming his intoxicated state after checking over his firearms and sheathing them again. 

The remainder of the nearby crowd quickly vacated his proximity. A few left the building, but lethal fights were a fairly common occurance all over Taeghelm so unsurprisingly some just moved over to a sideroom. 

Tiedel flustered over from behind the bar in a mass of hysterics, carrying the trail of his gown as he shuffled through the aftermath, but before he could begin his outburst Yondu pinched his lips shut, "nope!"

Tiedel hung there, clearly desperate to unload his concerns about his mother's establishment, damages, cleaning and all the usual nonsense that came with, but Yondu slipped a hand in his pocket and pulled out the relic by it's chain and held it up to his face. "I think this'll more than compensate."

He released his grip as Tiedel surrendered, eyes growing round and reaching in awe for the necklace. Yondu snatched it back to his chest, "first you get me another drink, like a good boy, then we'll talk."

Obeying, Tiedel whisked away with renewed enthusiasm as Yondu followed, half staggered once more, grabbing the communicator off the wrist of who he assumed was the party's leader along the way. 

Yondu dropped himself on a couch closest to the bar as Tiedel called for a clean up crew and chimed his orders, demanding to be relieved of his duties for the night's remainder like a sulking child until Reyna finally consented. He then returned gleefully to Yondu's side with a bottle in each hand and discarded his robe on the floor before sitting cross-legged a needy, but not too desperate distance to him.   
Yondu instinctively scowled at the advance but took a long swig from his fresh bottle and relented. His attention turned back to the relic as he retrieved and wove it through his fingers, "so you recognise this thing then?" He questioned.

Tiedel's face scrunched, "well sort of, I know pa wanted it and it's worth a lot!"

"Quarter mill is what Freymaw was going to pay", Yondu mused. 

Tiedel's iridescent eyes filled with stars as he gasped. "Doubt pa could afford that even after knocking off damages for this place".

"What say we do a little deal? Save me having to deal with transactions coming through this place, instead I let your pa handle them. It's generally just genetic contracted rubbish anyway but it'll save me and my crew the trips." Yondu's face turned sour, " seriously, this planet is a shithole! "

Tiedel nodded and chuckled, "but It's good for businesses if you know where to market. I'll just go call pa and see what he says". He then swept away giving Yondu a chance to admire the silver silk bottoms he wore hemmed in purple. His rump stuck out like a permanent beacon for a good time. Arousing as it was Yondu had other things to plan for right now.

He flicked through the computer he'd collected, checking logs, calls and inventories. There was a miscalculation between his tally and the log for the last flight recorded, but In his state he shrugged it off. His head was too stuffy to be getting critical right now so he pocketed it and sighed.

In his absence Yondu took in the surroundings, watching as the last of the bodies were being carried off, members of staff moving in with cleaning utensils, a cloaked figure hunched over a table in the far corner and a small trickle of other clients returning to the main room. All was calm, and boring once more. He pressed the bottle to his mouth and began to chug.

When Tiedel returned Yondu was half asleep having polished off both bottles. He groaned as Tiedel excitedly waved a board in his face, he had written up a contract. 

Yondu scoffed. "You're kidding!" 

Tiedel shook his head as he pushed it joyously into his hands. "Nope. Transaction agreed... And you get an added bonus! I talked Pa into allowing me to handle your trade so you get me. At. Your. Disposal... Any time, any place." He wiggled from head to toe at the reveal.

"Yay!" Yondu sarcastically cheered. " just what I need, another leech on my ass." 

He looked the contract over quickly, signed the screen and thrust it back at him. "Now, be useful. Drinks!" 

He shooed Tiedel off. As he did his eye caught something, the cloaked figure had moved: From the far corner, to the wall opposite.

Yondu observed, motionless. There wasn't a lot to see, the cloak was travel worn and drab. So large and heavy the wearer underneath must have been drowning by it. Spindly wrapped arms clutched a beverage as the hooded face stared in to it's depths.


	5. Drink and/or Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yondu and Kraglin's first encounter... It's turbulent!

The whole room seemed to slow as Yondu gradually craned his neck in a vain attempt to get closer without moving his backside. His ears popped as he tried hard to concentrate, squinting in an attempt to focus. It would have been a peculiar sight to those witness but he was drawn in regardless.

Something felt, odd. Granted, hooded characters weren't out of place wherever he went, especially in brothels, and this being seemed of no menace or threat to him, in fact no visible appeal at all from the stinking worn cloth that draped the figure like a dirty old bedsheet... but still, his eyes were fixated. He searched through his addled senses trying to figure out what was sending up signals.

He inhaled deeply, consuming all the air he could capacitate. Under the heavy stink of alcohol coming from himself and the usual smells of the brothel something tickled his nostrils. Catching traces of what must have been the heavily soiled cloak something delicious was also intertwined. It flirted amidst the baked in oil and exhaust fumes...

A glass suddenly appeared before his eyes and he recoiled. Trance broken, he inspected the cocktail hovering under his nose with revulsion. It hissed and bubbled much as he would when confronted with wimpleroot, his most hated edible flora. 

Casting daggers in Tiedel's direction he snatched the glass, sniffing it cautiously. The odourless yellow ooze slopped like a yoghurt and he stuck out his tongue and cringed. "What's this?"

Tiedel let out a soft snort at Yondu's repulsed expression as he seated himself and studied his own, "Just an assortment of spirits, mixed with some akapiema salts and royal jellies. Reyna boasts it's good for wellbeing, but I just know it knocks my flats off and makes me gooey and horny." 

Yondu raised an eyebrow, frustrated that Tiedel was trying to control the course of things, even if it was just to be rolled over and screwed senseless. But, even though it was already early hours and he was carrying a hefty store of booze already, he wasn't satiated yet, and even with the night's turbulence it was the best distraction he'd had for a while.

He wrinkled his nose and guzzled the mixture in one, letting out a slight retch as the heat of it burned at the back of his throat. The concoction was all manner of bitter and sour, sticking like sap in his mouth before copious amounts of saliva flowed to neutralise it. He gritted his teeth and hissed until the last of tangs dissipated, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth to clear the remnants.

Tiedel however, to Yondu's satisfaction was struggling, head resting between his legs it sounded like he was choking on a good ten inches. Making the most of the opportunity, Yondu applied a few overly firm pats to his back before reclining to enjoy the spectacle. He humored the boy well enough, but trying to throw down against him on any grounds, including coaxing sex, he'd always control the upper hand.

Once the anguished coughs subsided Tiedel launched for the flagon of water he'd obviously readied on the table before them and swallowed nearly half, before making to hand it to Yondu whilst rubbing his face in his shoulder.

Instead Yondu sucked his teeth, clapped and laughed hysterically, "... almost surprised your head wasn't blown off with that. Stars damned, trying to comatose yourself?".

Tiedel looked over meekly, tears streaming down his face until he eventually managed to pipe up through a wheeze, "... nothing I can't... handle...". He clutched his sides and rocked before pressing his hands to his cheeks, tapering his heaving breath.

Yondu leaned closer and whispered slowly, "you know, those salts won't do squat to me, 'cept maybe make my fingers tingle." He reclined once more, waving his hands tauntingly and cackling, "... Your face right now is a fucking treat though."

A small sulk and wimper escaped and spurred Yondu's outburst further, so much so he felt his bladder reminding him of it's existance, having been packed to maximum capacity. He calmed himself through a number of staggered hoots and batted the back of Tiedel's head as he rose to his feet. "Gotta take a leak", he said and zig-zagged off, sniggering still.

After what felt like an attempt at literally pissing the last of the night away he left the bathrooms feeling as 'enlightened as fart in a gas chamber', as his first mate Gypsite would say. 

His eyes subconsciously cast back to the wall opposite from where he'd been sat, the seat now vacant and table cleared. He had no idea of what he was expecting but his spirits seemed to stale a little nonetheless.

Most folk would be knocking on for vegetable by now given his routine this trip. Not only had he been boozing almost non stop at every dock, he'd gotten even less sleep than usual. He was notorious for subjecting himself to nothing but short naps away from the Eclector and even staying up for days at a time, but weeks had passed now since he'd even set foot in his personal quarters and he'd been increasingly restless to even nap.

Even Gypsite was growing concerned, during her last video call she even suggested in some rather colourful, brassy tones to return to the Eclector for some R&R... And considering she was usually the one to call others a waste of a fuck and merrily clout them round the ear for not running at 100%, captain or not, it was the most care she'd probably shown for anyone's wellbeing. Still, he kindly told her where she could shove her opinion and they then departed with their usual 'fuck you shitbag - fuck you analsack' type goodbye.

In his current state he did wonder if he'd be able to get a little sleep in soon. It was a heavy night and he'd already spaced out for a time, surely a little more and he'd be able to switch off completely for a while.

He started making back towards the couch, navigating the room much swifter without a liquid cache in tow. Tiedel was sat, perched over the arm, now smiling and he grumbled under his breath, fresh drinks sat on the table and though he was growing tired of socialising, he wasn't one to turn down wetting his whistle when the drink was ready and beckoning before taking his leave.

As he was passing the bar though, his mind suddenly blanked, imaginary pins prickled him all over and he froze. That smell again! Stronger and untainted by that awful hood this time. His vision drifted back across the bar top to see a pair of scrawny indigo, half-bound arms clutching a glass of cheap ass ale, about the cheapest in stock without it being watered down to pure piss. 

He backed up quickly and took a double take in disbelief, forcefully snorting the intriguing scent from his nostrils. Surely not! This wasn't it, it couldn't be. 

He spun around to check that he wasn't being deceived, that it wasn't someone else nearby... someone had to be pulling his leg, or he was losing the plot altogether. But, he inhaled deeply and his nose wasn't wrong. Though clearly not well washed or groomed there was no mistaking the highlighted odour; reminiscent of churned loam, soft dried grasses, barks and all manner of gritty, earthy tones covered in a tantalising, alluring musk that was thirsting to drive him wild inside.

He studied the man, or creature; Not entirely sure on which from this angle. Truth be told, what he saw was a complete eyesore at first glance, bedraggled leather clothing, hanging from an almost skeletal frame perched on the edge of a bar stool. Must have been almost nought but bone and gristle under there he thought during his observation. 

But as his eyes raised, breath caught in his chest; that fur extended well past his arms. In fact, he was absolutely plastered in it from what he could see, and something about it looked glorious despite it's grotty state.

Yondu's eyes dilated, though his body stayed rigid. Something inside was wanting him to touch it, play with it even. The notion, once it registered, repulsed his outer self and began a back and forth of infuriating yes! - no! replaying over and over in his brain.

This was stupid! He didn't get swept off his feet. Not by anyone, or anything. The mere inclination of actual intimate contact usually had his stomach turning and ready to raze buildings to the ground... But he couldn't shake the impulse gnawing away at him. It was sickening! 

He soon felt his eyes flicking along with each conflicted retaliation in a dizzying impotence before finally managing to lift a clenched fist to firmly connect with his own chin with an audible crunch. 

He reeled and spun before catching himself, looking around to see a number of eyes cautiously upon him whilst straightening back up. But he fiercely snarled his retort and they soon scattered again, resuming their previous activities.

Caressing his jaw, he discreetly winced as it clicked back in to place. It'd been a stupid move to make but better that than being caught staring doe-eyed, looking puckered and flush at some run down random for too long.

Suddenly a rush of movement came from behind, swiftly followed by a smash. A knee jerk reaction kicked in and Yondu whipped round roaring at the top of his lungs, grabbed the furry stool occupant, lifted, then slammed him down on the bar top. Seething through clenched teeth he proceeded to pin him down before piecing together the situation.

Watery ale was strewn across the bar top, dripping down to the floor where a broken glass lay. Clearly someone else had had trouble concentrating and knocked it over absent mindedly, probably due to Yondu's spontaneous outburst of self sparring... A simple matter of an overreaction was all it seemed.

As the instinctive rage began to calm, he levelled with the furry one's face, breathing noxious alcohol fumes over his features as he took him in. Malice began to fall away, revealing to him the most mesmerising eyes he'd yet witnessed; shining like rubies, faceted and wide in the light, reflections dancing with every miniscule movement as he stared. Fur, a deep, rich indigo, contouring and accentuating his scruffy, narrow features with huge tufted ears, pointed at the tips. They looked almost comical as they lay flattened against his head Yondu thought, but endearing in some way. 

The urge to pet returned even stronger and he was glad his hands were clutched firmly at clothing, but a following twitch in his groin reminded him of himself, quickly releasing his hold and dragging the fuzz unceremoniously down to the floor. "Stupid thing to do... Krutaker, I could have killed you like that." Yondu then snapped his fingers, offering up a signature scowl. 

Kraglin, unsettled and flustered by being thrown about swallowed hard before accidentally unleashing his own outrage, "... And what kind of flarking moron goes around punching himself up like a nutjob?! ... Scare a life half to death! " He straightened up quickly and bristled, just about reaching eye to eye, he was tall for his species, but his height seemed to sacrifice structure, 'a pole with teeth' was Leatho's joke.

Yondu's arm lunged at his throat and dug his nails deep, slamming them both into the bar, "... don't know who you're talking to boy!", he spat, flashing his teeth as he pressed his face closer.

Kraglin flinched as the impact pained, but mustered up enough to retaliate, defiantly pushing into his grasp and revealing his own, dagger-like teeth, "... neither do you!" He knew it was a likely fatal mistake but he was at breaking point and no matter what happened he was ultimately screwed.

Yondu, unprepared for such a reply, pitched a fit of laughter so hard that if he hadn't just emptied his bladder he'd have been streaming there and then. He stooped, clenching his free hand into a fist and mockingly jabbed him square in the chest as he bellowed, freeing the hold on his throat. 

Kraglin clutched at it for protection and hissed at the offense, readying to continue his verbal attack, before another fist collided with his temple, knocking him sprawling over the stool, dazed. 

Yondu smugly blew over his knuckles and waited to see if another protest came. Kraglin was somewhere between terrified and furious, clutching at the seat, frozen, desperately wishing for a reprieve, or a do over; anything to get out of this predicament.

This whole night was a cluster fuck; He and his crewmates had spent hours looking for a seemingly non existent trail. No one owned up to having seen Yondu so they'd run ragged around half a dozen districts, exhausting every possible lead they had. He'd been pushed around and roughed up for trying to steer them all the logical route once the others began tearing up bars and whorehouses. His feet were sore. His head had already hurt. He was starving hungry. The flarking idiots had got themselves all killed in no time at all once they'd finally found their target. He was all alone with no back up plan and all he had enough units for was a few rounds of cheap ass beer to drown his sorrows whilst trying in vain to figure out how to save himself from being flayed by the captain once he'd get back to the ship. 

Putting in perspective now, actually confronting Yondu face to face was the last thing going through his head... and the stupidest idea anyone with his level of self preservation would even attempt, but the drink had made him careless after months of sobriety, regardless of it's feeble kick, and his idea to linger to get a feel for the guy was either about to put him on his ass, or in the morgue.

Kraglin eventually broke and sighed in defeat. "Do what you fucking want, it's not like I ever catch a fucking break... Fucking bastards and krutakers shitting left, right and centre, expecting me to run around after them getting shit on from great heights whilst they fuck shit up with their shitting and fucking: fucking and shitting. Where's my fucking and shitting? Why don't i get to fuck shit up for once? What about Kraglin, eh? I can fuck and shit as much as the next guy with a few muscles ... Lousy fricking .... Whoresons ... Yup ... Ffrggg ... Blah!". 

By this point Kraglin was now scrambling back to an upright position, muttering and mumbling with interjections of hissing and spitting at himself as his rant turned on himself. "You knew it'd end up being a crappy deal! Should have bailed before THEY even came along! Shouldn't have got involved in a syndicate, ditching you... didn't even get your cut! And look where you are now! ", he snarled, pointing dramatically with both hands to the spillage on the bar, "... can't even get hammered with a decent drink before you snuff it! "

He faceplanted the worktop, splattering droplets of alcohol, before feebly yowling in regret. The booze may have been weak, but coupled with direct contact of his non-lidded eyes, it stung somewhat. 

Yondu was now cringing at the outburst, shocked at the turn of events. Pity parties were a torture worse than a flogging and his hands jerked between ears and sidearms"... fuck's sake, get the chap something strong to stop the belly aching, my ears can't fucking take it! " 

Tiedel had appeared cautiously at his side, hesitating, but offering up one of the glasses he carried. Yondu snatched it and slammed it down next to the furry wreck. "There! Fucking drink so I can kill you without the fricking sob story. " 

A long pause when there was no reaction. He then dragged across another stool and abruptly plonked his backside on the edge. Pulling out one of his guns to caress and plucking the remaining glass from Tiedel, he cooled his next approach. "Tough time eh?"

Kraglin slowly lifted his head and stared longingly towards the fresh glass; it's contents a crisp, refreshing, kederigian mead, lightly spiced with a warm aftertaste that went down a dream. He licked his lips revealing his peculiar tongue and shakily reached out to it. 

His hand was ambushed along the way, slammed down by the barrel of Yondu's gun and pinched into the back of his wrist painfully. "S'rude not to answer a question, you know." Yondu smirked as Kraglin flinched away, then began enunciating as he spoke again. "Let's start this over. I'm Yondu; and you?... Well you seem to be the scrappiest, emotionally unstable, fluffy wreckage I've come across in a while. I've no idea of what you even are, and my trigger finger's just itching to end this now... Buuut, admittedly it takes some balls to try and cross me.' He paused for a moment. "... Tell you what. You've got 3 drinks to convince me not to kill you, otherwise I've got a new rug for my ship." 

Kraglin looked to him, watching Yondu gesture as though talking to a simpleton before training his pistol's sight directly between his eyes and he then flailed once more. "... Fine!" He groaned.

Yondu smiled childishly and flicked his tongue between his teeth, "Good. I've been hoping for a fresh face to liven things up." He cast his eyes quickly over to Tiedel who was still hovering and shot a firm warning look to back off. The two were promptly left to it, after a small sob of dejection and a obligatory request to call if they needed anything.

"Kraglin's the name, " he finally sighed, sitting up straight to offer some manners.

Yondu jutted his jaw unamused but appeased, then reached over and slid the glass into Kraglin's half-cupped hand, "Better! Now drink."

Mere seconds later Kraglin was frantically draining every last drop, desperately gulping it's sweet nectar and rolling his tongue between it's waves of warmth. He clung to it greedily. The reality of being a glorified cabin boy meant he'd been deprived of all his self indulgences and luxuries. Scraps and garbage had been his lifeblood of late, and a fine crafted drink was like water in a desert.

Yondu studied carefully with a raised brow, the man had turned almost feral over a single decent drink... It might be easy to open him up to persuasion with a little more coaxing and a 'sympathetic ear'. Inspiration then struck and a wry smile escaped as Kraglin smacked his lips in delight, peering for any remnants he may have missed... 'So... Ready for the next?' 

Kraglin sceptically glanced at Yondu's gun remembering his 3 drink deadline, but submissively nodded, pushing the glass towards the taps and smacking his lips again in anticipation of the next. 

The second soon arrived and he pulled it close, lowering his head to take a long, slow sip this time before meeting for conversation... An awkward silence stood. 'So....?'.

'So... what?' Yondu sneered as he raised his own glass.

'Strange to offer someone drinks if you mean to kill em... Bit pathetic leading them on if you ask me,' Kraglin chirped rather insolently gazing at the bubbles in his glass.

Yondu prickled, this time in a scathing manner... This little shit was practically begging for a bullet.

It'd be a breeze to just squeeze the trigger and smear his brains all over the bar... Hell, a little more cleaning on top of his bill would be no bother at all. Ketalliyah could redecorate the whole stinking brothel at his expense and it'd scarcely make a dent on his accounts, it made no odds to him...

Yet something about this scrawny furball piqued his interest despite the saltiness practically emanating from him. Thoughts of crushing his face into the ground warped in to pushing him into a bed, breaking his arms to guiding them places and his pistol jammed at the back of his throat... well, the hot flush to his groin said it all. He was disgruntled with this inner monologue conflicted over his pride and arousal... Reputation demanded punishment!

Shrugging off his turmoil, there was a third drink yet to be dealt and he really did prefer to be a man of his word. He took a deep breath and reined himself in. It'd be so easy to kill him right now, but where was the fun in that?

Leaning across the bar he grabbed a coaster and began toying with it in silence, occasionally tapping, flicking or spinning it with flashy tricks to amuse himself. Eventually, as Kraglin's gaze slowly wandered over he angled himself away a little, Kraglin followed. He shuffled further, then a little more until Kraglin was near on peering over his shoulders to watch. "You've got my attention," he quietly mumbled, almost buried in Yondu's collar.

Yondu’s skin prickled once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks. Any kudos or feedback appreciated.


End file.
